Gamble at Nettuno

From the beginning there was no doubt that the Allies' beachhead thrust at Nettuno was full of hazard. An amphibious landing on the flank of a stubborn, able foe was bound to be. But this week the risk looked bigger than it ever had, since first the troops waded ashore on the morning of Jan. 22.

The reason for the hazard was easy to see. The beachhead attack was only a part of a tactical concept which also included the forcing of other events. Because of the quick perception of the German command, and the good show its troops were putting on, the other events had failed to happen. Result: a temporary stalemate, still fraught with possibilities of defeat but still promising an Allied victory.

Low Ground, High Ground. This week the beachhead thundered in one of the toughest battles U.S. troops and their British allies have yet fought. They were still on the ground they had taken in the first few days, a low plain criss-crossed with creeks and drainage ditches where front-line infantrymen had to take cover in waist-deep water from German fire.

Jerry held the high ground inland from the coastal plain. If he had not been there in force when the invaders landed, he had quickly and cleverly redisposed himself. Now, looking down on the restricted area (eight miles deep, 14 miles long) where the Allies had landed six divisions plus armored force, he hammered the invaders.

The Stone Wall. The invaders had not stood idle. But if the concept of their commanders, ranging down from Sir Henry Maitland ("Jumbo") Wilson and Sir Harold R. L. G. Alexander, had called for a quick penetration of German rear areas from Nettuno, then they had failed.

Their first widening of position had gone along in fine style. But by the end of the first ten days they had been stopped by stout German defenses. Last week the Germans reported pinching off a few outfits that struck too deeply. In front of the Allies was a stout stone wall of enemy fire power.

The invaders punched ahead doggedly and profanely. But while the minds of combat soldiers were on the task ahead, their officers' thoughts were on the south. If the Nettuno beachhead was ever to collect the reward of daring, tactical plan, things had to be changed on the Gustav Line, and changed quickly.

The Linchpin. The key to Nettuno was not in the high ground beyond the beachhead. It was down to the southeast, at Cassino, where he was also on high ground, and showing no disposition to give it up.

Cassino, linchpin of the Gustav Line, had to fall before the Nettuno attackers could move. Held long enough, it might even enable the Germans, rushing down fresh troops from north Italy and pulling seasoned outfits out of the Gustav Line, to force abandonment of the beachhead.

Once Cassino fell, the Gustav Line would have to fold. With sounder timing, that should have happened in the first week of the Nettuno landing. But somehow, almost encircled, Cassino held. Result: when the beachhead soldiers pushed forward they were driving against no rear area disorganized and road-clogged with retreat. They were banging their heads against a well-organized, coolly conducted, unfettered line of resistance.

Sixty miles to the south their comrades pushed desperately to smash one of the great German defenses of the Mediterranean campaign. The Germans, whom they had thought they saw folding up two weeks ago, had stiffened. The threat to Jerry's flank and rear had failed to rattle him; he was hanging on harder than ever.

On the beachhead at Nettuno, men cursed, fought, hoped and died.

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